Rank 47
by Arakan7
Summary: A Series of OneShots. [Retrospective] Just who is Clare? These are the thoughts of several people who knew her as the Organization's Number 47. I originally thought of just making a oneshot but you know how ideas have nasty habits of growing :D
1. Miria

Miria

* * *

Rank 47 – although I did not show it on my face, I was astounded. She, who scarcely a few weeks ago, dispatched four mid-tier youma with consummate ease was the lowest amongst us? I could not believe it. Something was definitely wrong here but at the time, I could not fathom what that could be. How could that proud poise and swaggering confidence and her overwhelmingly powerful aura I felt that day belong to one who occupied the lowly rank of 47? 

I felt my initial misgivings mirroring that of Helen, who laughed in mocking disbelief at hearing Claire's rank. Indeed, Rank 47 is given to the weakest amongst the active warriors of the Organization, but despite that knowledge, I know there's no way that my eyes, my senses could been fooled that day. To keep Helen from antagonizing her again, I gave her until sunset to find suitable lodging for the human boy with her. As she walked away from us, my eyes unwittingly drifted to the small of her back. Whoever she truly was and whatever she may be hiding, my curiosity demanded that I find it out, and I am very good at finding secerts.

As we made our way out of the town that rainy evening and began our trek to our target's location, of course Helen began her hazing of Claire yet again. Even stoic Deneve had some words to say about her lack of both strength and experience needed for such a hunt as this, and though I ignored them the best I could, I felt slightly irritated at the fact that we would bicker so easily about anything whenever we grouped together. With such thoughts running through my head, I heard Claire grab for her sword yet again, and I managed to stifle a sigh. The young boy she had brought with her seemed to be the hot topic of the Awakened Being hunt; every hunt has one and it is usually at the expense of the lowest ranked. As Helen and Deneve made vocal their complaints about her accompanying us once again, I found myself not listening to them at all, rather I was drawn to her diminutive figure between them. God, her eyes… They couldn't see them but I could. Deep down, I felt myself shiver at the barely suppressed rage in her bright silver orbs. For a moment, a tiny part of me wished her to unleash all her frighteningly glorious anger upon the two - to glimpse that enticing, overwhelming power in action with my own eyes. Instead, I berated them to let the matter of her joining us rest. Even as the words left my lips, I found that I myself could not wait any longer. A strong desire to take the full measure of this enigma in my own way rose up within me. I had to test her - I had to know.

While Helen went to get food and Deneve rested inside the cave I found, I approached her, both our swords in my hands and threw her hers. I had to know once and for all and this was the perfect opportunity. We stood facing each other, the rain quickly soaking our bodies, but I paid it no mind. Instead, I focused myself for the task at hand of testing her.

While the spar did provide me with her skill level, it did nothing to appease my inital curiosity about her. I felt nothing of that powerful aura. No great technique came into play against me. No superb swordsmanship turned my blade. Even as we moved in a loud metallic dance, she behaved…strangely, as if she was trying to use a different style from what was taught us. Her silver eyes rarely left my own, staring at me with such intense concentration despite her clumsy attemps to keep up with my agile movements. I parried her sword out and disarmed her with a quick twist of my blade against hers, ending the match. My breaths were even and slow, this was hardly enough to get me to breath hard, while hers were ragged and worn, her chest heaving from the exertion of our small fight. I could not help the childish sensation of feeling...cheated. How could she let my expectations of her be for naught? How could she let me down like this? I walked past her coolly, burying my disappointment deep behind my usual fascade of detatchment.

I left her where she had fallen and walked back into the cave, my own mind split on the decision to the question proposed by the other two yet again. It seems that they will never let a moment go by without reminding me that she was Rank 47, and that her dismal performance just now fit that ranking. I should have sent her away, by all rights I should have, but I didn't. Even though the right thing to do would be to send her away, I refused to do so, much to Helen's continued chagrin. I knew that I was pushing my luck but maybe that power would come into play against the Awakened One. It was quite a gamble, playing with the unknown is a risk I seldom take at all, but this one I felt I could work with. According to our information, if worse came to worse, my technique and current strength as the leader of this group should be more than enough to take out the Awakened One.

I look at them as they sleep. Deneve, her back against the rocky wall resting her sword along her shoulder…Helen sprawled out comfortably on the ground, hands behind her head. She even snores, the loudmouth. Figures she can't keep quiet even while sleeping. I glance back outside as the rain continues to beat mercilessly against the slender form still outside. Staring at Claire's soaked body, I begin to wonder as my eyes register her slight breathing. Could she be dreaming? What would she be dreaming about? I stop thinking along that line of thought. It brought up my own nightmares that I still have of my own encounter with a youma when I was a little girl and thoughts of the death of my best friend, Hilda. Dreams are for humans. We 'silver eyed witches' do not dream, we only relieve the nightmare of our continued existance.

With a light sigh, I rest my back against my sword, impaled in the ground as is customary and close my eyes. Even now, my mind goes back to our first meeting as she appeared to me – gratingly self confident, and yet I feel an odd tingle race up my spine with just the mere remembrance. I can't believe I am admitting this but maybe it is why I have been so preoccupied with her. I want to see it - that power…her power… I felt my lips relax into a small smile with my self-admission as I began to drift into slumber.

I want you to know who you really are, Rank 47. I won't truly rest until I do.

* * *

Author's Thoughts: Okay, 2nd official fanfic is completed! Tried to imitate Miria's voice for this one as closely as possible and I think it worked out satisfactory. Originally was suppose to be a one-shot but the potential was too much. 


	2. Deneve and Helen

Standard disclaimers apply. Takes place just after the Fab 4 split up to go their separate ways after they concluded the Awakened Hunt.

* * *

Deneve & Helen

* * *

Ah dammit," Helen muttered, holding her stomach gingerly. "I wish I had an apple, I'm hungry." 

Deneve resisted the urge to sigh. _And the sky is still blue so what else is new_, she thought. She really didn't understand Helen's habit of announcing to the world her every thought and intention. At least she didn't do it in a fight, to which she was grateful. "Well, if it makes you feel better, so am I."

"Eh? Really? No kidding," surprise was etched on Helen's face.

Deneve closed her eyes for a moment as they continued to walk. "Of course I am. I got my arm torn off, impaled through the stomach and nearly Awakened of my own free will and brought myself back."

"Ah yeah that's right. Eh heh, yeah, I'd definitely want food after that. And a vacation to boot." Helen tried to stretch but the wound in her back was still interfering with her shoulder and back muscles. Even with their healing ability, that Male Awakened sure had done a number on her and the others.

Deneve nodded in agreement to both the 'food' and 'vacation'. Despite Helen vocalizing the better part of her own thoughts nearly all the time, Deneve found she silently agreed with much of what she implied, even if she did not agree with the exact phrasing.

"Still, to think that we were set up like this. By the people we're suppose to trust! Pisses me off I tell ya. The hell are we suppose to do about this?!"

Deneve's eyes darted to the line of trees to their right. "We best not talk about that outloud. You know how they love to suddenly 'appear' on their own whims."

Helen involuntarily covered her mouth even though it was far too late. "Oh yeah, sorry I forgot."

Deneve thought it would be better to curb Helen's talkative nature towards something else. She doubted that they were out here this quickly but just in case... "I can't believe that we were saved by a Rank 47 though…"

Helen smacked her palm, her enthusiasm back in full force. "By Claire? Hell, I'm still in shock that she could do HALF the stuff she pulled off back then! She can sense Youki that well? Talk about saving a trump card to the last!"

"It's how she avoided the worst of those injuries," Deneve mused, thinking about how to apply such senses in battle. She herself could probably do it and it could fit with her style of fighting perfectly. Learning and thinking of sword-related techniques was one of Deneve's favorite past times when not walking or cleaving youma.

"Now I almost feel bad for teasing her like I did. I hope she won't remember too much of it," the blonde said hopefully while bashfully scratching the back of her head.

Deneve had no such compunctions to admit such. She was right in saying that Claire was weak and she fundamentally _was_ weak but her ability had changed the tide of the battle. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful but she didn't think that Claire even wanted praise for her performance. Still it was pretty amazing what she did.

"But man," Helen continued, rotating her shoulder gingerly to test the muscles out again. "I can't believe her…that girl…hiding something like that from me. I'm gonna spar against her next time, the little brat." Chuckling to herself, she fell silent, a small smile on her face.

Deneve couldn't help but noticing Helen's smile. It was almost…warm and her tone was affectionate when talking about Claire. "I don't think that 'little brat' is something you call someone who saved your life."

"I know but she's rank 47 so she'll always be a brat to me," Helen grinned. They walked a bit more before Helen spoke again. "She's just like my little sisters…"

Deneve's full attention was now on her friend. Despite how close they had become, Helen had never divulged into her own past much.

"I had two younger sisters, before all of this happened anyway. We didn't get along all perfect and everything. We fought nearly all the time over the usual stupid stuff. They always tried to do everything I could do even though I was older." Helen paused and Deneve could see a torrent of emotions on Helen's face that ran the gambit from happy and fondness to melancholy to sadness. "When the youma came, I couldn't even…"

"Helen…" Despite her efforts, Deneve was painfully aware of the hotness behind her own eyes. The flash of self-loathing and pain in Helen's face she was well acquainted with for she had worn its mask constantly for years on her own.

Helen closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath and let itout in a huff. "Claire…she has the same eyes that they did. I won't fail in protecting the ones that are precious to me ever again." Helen shrugged nonchalantly and added, "I guess you can say that's how I survived the training for us."

When she glanced at Deneve again, the serious-minded girl could see the steel-like resolve that lay beneath Helen's overly brash and boisterous demeanor. Many things about her loud friend's personality suddenly made perfect sense to the perfectionist warrior.

"I'm sorry," Deneve spoke suddenly and softly, causing Helen to blink in surprise. "For you and your family."

Helen rubbed the back of her head self-consciously, the whisper of a blush on her cheeks. "Hey, c'mon now… Well hell, I feel sorry for yours. Miria-neechan's and Claire's too. For all of us." Her small smile returned, forced despite the somber mood that was upon them. "But that's not going to stop me from enjoying everything I can."

Deneve had to smile. Simple things like that made her realize just why she liked Helen. "Like apples?"

"Eh!? Well uh yeah! That too, dammit!"

Deneve chuckled at catching Helen off-guard but the underlying message was as clear as crystal as was the truth of Helen's soul. "I feel the same way Helen. About you and Claire and Miria"

Helen grinned and punched the air. "Hey, we're all sisters now! We might have lost our real families but we can make new ones right? With each other!"

"…I don't know about that," Deneve began but she thought the better of it. In the end, they all wanted to belong to something once again and in a way they all did. They all had their lives changed by the creatures called 'youma' and in a more personal way, they had their lives changed by this chance meeting with each other. Deneve found a smile working its way onto her face. "But I suppose having friends like them won't be so bad after all."

"Yeah," Helen latched her arms around her serious faced friend laughing, her jovial self back in full force. She looked up at the sky and defiantly let out a yell. "Don't you dare die on me, number 47! Live so I can see your little man's silly face again!"

"Did you have to yell into my ear, you idiot?"

"Oh sorry!"

* * *

Author Thoughts: Just watched the latest ep and I decided to change the story a little bit. Helen really stuck out in my mind and this is just my reason as to why she's so protective of Clare. And yes, I shall continue with 'Rank 47' as a series of one-shots about Clare from different characters' POVs. I'll try to keep it chronological but I make no promises. Makes for an interesting character study, no? 

Edited: 02/11/08 - To tell the truth, I hated the way the first submission read so I changed it quite a bit. Hope this reads better. ;

Next up is Irene's turn. Might come across as slightly Teresa/Irene but I highly doubt it will be anything to squeal about. :p


	3. Irene

Irene

* * *

As the sun sets, I find myself reflecting on these past few days. One week – that's all it took.

Just one week ago, she invaded my life, bearing within her the echo of the one that I longed to see alive and well. I was looking for a #1, but I found a #47.

To me, this one was a most puzzling enigma. Despite my inital questions on why she was being pursued by a higher rank warrior for no apparent reason, only one question mattered the most to me even as I cut down her adversary: why would one such as this have Teresa's scent about her? The answer to that question came a few days after the incident in question and she had awakened.

* * *

A stubborn sow of a troublemaker – that was what my initial thoughts about her were. As soon as she woke up, despite her being so weak, she was trying to jump out and rush out to fight – to die. I did not need a reminder of a past that I had tried my best to completely forget. After forcing her back onto the bed and reminding her about her current situation, I left her alone to let her gather her wits about her once again, and to ponder what I was going to do with her. 

Outside, an old feeling swelled up within me and I drew my sword. The tree that stood beside the cabin where I have been hiding these past decades was a good strong tree. Many times I sat beneath its shady branches in contemplation, watching as many sunsets from my seat at its base. I mentally prepared myself to initiate my signature technique even as I cut the tree with three quick slashes at various heights...focusing much of my youki into my remaining arm and then letting my will guide its motions. The tree was quickly reduced to pieces in the face of my Flash Sword. As my arm raged with the steady surge of powerful Youki, my command of its power was sufficent for me not to concentrate completely on the technique itself, leaving me a few precious moments to contemplate my new esrtwhile companion.

Realization dawned on me even as the pieces of the tree fell to the ground in clean cut chunks of odd sizes and shapes - it had to be her. She was the same little girl that caused the entire ordeal with Teresa becoming hunted and the aftermath thereafter.

I found that I was not angry at all for I resolved many of those feelings long ago and despite finding her, I found that I was more curious about her than anything else. Just what about this girl made the fearsome warrior Teresa I knew become so…human? And why on earth would she become a warrior herself, despite knowing of the hardships one must endure? Surely it was not to…no. No one could be that lacking for a brain. No one could ever hope to approach that level of power. Even I was cowered by that unimagineable monster...that unimaginable power.

* * *

I ventured a guess to the origin of the youma donater for her. It was the only thing that could possibly explain why I felt the echo of Teresa's unique youki from within her. Her stone-faced silence was a most deafening answer to my query. 

Even with her silent reply, I still can't believe it. She took within her Teresa for the purpose of defeating Priscilla? Didn't she feel the same fear as I? Didn't she feel as helpless as I? Why is she going through such hardships to avenge Teresa? Amidst these questions, another one arose: Why…why is it that I couldn't do the same? Rather than what is wrong with her, I foud myself questioning what is wrong with me? I knew Teresa better than anyone…or so I thought. When faced with the little girl who had changed Teresa so much, I questioned just how much did I know the person whom I had admired so?

I then look into her face…her eyes, tainted with the silver that marks one as a warrior of the Organization and then I realize the simple yet profound truth. While I had admired Teresa greatly, this child _loved_ her: as a mother, as an elder sister, as her family. For that reason…she became a warrior and for that reason, she'll endure the many trials ahead of her until she can avenge the one that had given her a new life. In the face of such dedication, my own feelings on the matter seemed miniscule in comparison.

The courage displayed by her moved even my heart as I returned her sword to her. The shared experience we had with the monster named Priscilla had singled her out to be the one to continue treading the path of a warrior. In truth, I was ashamed of myself in that despite my great mental fortitude, I could not muster enough courage of my own to overcome my fear of ... dying. Here, the former No. 2, second only to the great Teresa of the Faint Smile, a coward in the face of death. In my shame, I found a quiet admiration of the young one in front of me. Despite her inherent weakness, despite all her failings, she presses onward through life. Maybe that very stubborness has shaped her for this great task as well.

No, I would not take up arms to join in her quest - I am no longer the warrior I was. But maybe…maybe by training her, spending time with her, I myself will find what I've been truly looking for all this time even though I do not know what it is...

* * *

Teresa, I think I know why you loved her as you did and I think I understand you better because of her. During this one week and I've found what I've wanted for so long - a chance. 

A chance to experience what you experienced...being with her...

* * *

I told her what I truly felt about her and how she had weakened Teresa the warrior, the woman that I admired so. That I could tell that Teresa was truly different in the short amount of time we crossed blades in that room. I also told her that I was jealous of the woman she made Teresa become just by loving her. That I was jealous of her because she did what I could not...not that I bothered to try and get to know Teresa as the person she truly was. My fear of her was stronger than my admiration and that kept me away from performing my duty to her as a true comrade.

* * *

A chance for forgiveness...

* * *

Relief - an emotion I had not known in ages - quietly flooded through me in learning that she did not hate me for what I had tried to do. In fact, she stated, as she gently ran a brush through my long silver tresses one evening in front of the fire, that she felt that out of everyone present there, that she felt I was akin to Teresa just by looking at my emotionless eyes. Was I truly so easy to read back then that a mere human child would feel pity for a warrior of silver eyes? Or, was this a testment to her childish 'wisdom' as one who's life, I just learned, had been marred by youma from an early time to understand our situation? A new wave of regret washed over me in spite of myself and I had a hard time keeping my eyes from tearing up. I did not cry, but I felt that if anyone did, that she understood me - understood all of us - and that made the pain all the more exquisite even as it disappeared.

* * *

A chance for redemption...

* * *

I taught her what I could, about the blade, about battle, and also my technique. Her talent for learning was rather limited but she never gave up, another testament to her sow-like stubborness. She would had run herself to exhaustion every day if I was not careful. I also taught her what I had garnered from observing Teresa during the few times we were together pertaining to her use of her exquisite sensing ability. It was not much but anything would help this one who had inherited her blood and possibly this same ability. After a few days, she was still not ready, far from it. Her passionate personality could not hope to contain the inner inferno of youki one ignites to use the Flash Sword with cool detachment and steady resolve. She was still just a # 47 despite what she had done so far. Still I will give her praise for what she had accomplished thus far. She must improve herself on her own, in her own time, in her own experiences. As she was, she was not fit to do so for she was missing her dominant fighting arm - hardly befiting a warrior with a destiny as great as hers - so I gave her mine.

* * *

A chance to...be with you again...

* * *

As she leaves, glancing back at me with worried yet determined eyes, I find myself uttering a silent prayer. Become stronger rank 47, no, Claire, for you are the last tie to Teresa that this world and I have. Let my arm that you now bear protect both you and Teresa as you continue on this difficult path to your destiny. 

Night falls and I feel it to be my last time watching a sunset from this place. Even so, I am no longer afraid. Let my fate come as it may, for I am ready now. God willing, maybe…maybe I can see you again on the other side with Noel and Sophia as well. Will you greet me with that infuriating faint smile of yours once more? I hope so, because this time, I'll return your beautiful smile with one of my own.

* * *

Sorry it took so long with this one everyone! It took a while but hopefully it's almost worth the wait. Next up, it's either Jean or Galatea - maybe both at once.

EDIT: 02/12/08 ::: Thanks to shelter for pointing out enough reasons for me to re-edit this - I'm much more satisfied with it now. b


End file.
